


Stick Gold Stars in Her Book

by voleuse



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>She played the dragon in our story, reading her part with feeling</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stick Gold Stars in Her Book

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-series. Title and summary adapted from Alicia Stubbersfield's _Year 7, Period 1, Wednesday_.

Buffy dug her toes into the sand as she stormed off, and wished, once again, that Tyler would leap into the bonfire and burn off his hair, because while she might not be a skank like that skanky wannabe guitarist with the skanky Hot Topic tube top, she was head cheerleader and _hygenic_ and, hello, Buffy Summers, and thus, totally not somebody who would do, ew, _that_ underneath the pier when it wasn't even dark yet and there were, like, _families_ running around the beach.

She opened her purse and dug out her shawl, wrapping it over her bikini bottoms. She dropped her sandals onto the ground and slipped them on, trudging a last awkward few steps in the sand before stepping onto the searing sidewalk. The sun was setting, but curfew wasn't for hours, and she'd rather die than ask somebody else for a ride home.

Stupid Tyler.

The sky was fading into an afterimage of fire, and somewhere down the beachfront, the audio boundaries of just-opening clubs started to overlap, teeth-rattling beats alternating until they melded into syncopation. Buffy flipped her wallet open and slipped her fake ID into place, and scanned the hottie-potential of the lines starting to form, determined to find her revenge through dancing the damn night away.

The first club was way _ew_, and the second one had a bouncer who was actually checking IDs. The third was the prize, good beats spilling out the door and quality people swaying into it. Buffy sidled up to the woman at the door, keeping her smile small and sophisticated. The woman glanced at Buffy once, then again, raising her eyebrows. They were pierced, and Buffy tried not to stare, because she was totally not gauche.

"I really hate lines," Buffy announced. "They make me feel very exposed."

The woman laughed, waving a couple of people in. "I haven't heard that one before." She folded her arms. "Try again."

Buffy considered the twenty-dollar bill in her wallet, but that was the last of her allowance. She bit her lip, and tried honesty instead. "My boyfriend is, at this very moment, getting blown by some skank under the pier." She tugged at the knot of cloth over her left hip.

The woman winced, and a girl at the front of the line laughed. "How about," the girl said, "she's with me?"

Buffy tilted her head, considering. The girl was about her age, and she looked alone. She wore two spaghetti-strap tank tops layered over each other, their hems barely reaching the waistband of her denim skirt. The woman at the door looked at the girl, then at Buffy.

"I'm with her," Buffy echoed.

The woman rolled her eyes and unhooked the rope line, waving them both in. Buffy thanked the woman, and then her new companion snaked an arm around her waist. "I hate dancing alone," the girl said.

"No kidding," Buffy replied.

"Was that true, about your boyfriend?" the girl asked.

"Yeah." Buffy shrugged. "Men."

"Who needs them?"

"They have their uses," Buffy hedged.

The girl smirked, and said, "My name's Kennedy."

"Buffy," Buffy said, but another song started up, drowning out her voice. Kennedy's hand pressed against Buffy's hip, and they were already on the dance floor, sweeping in like a wave. Buffy looped the long strap of her purse diagonally across her body, the braided leather scratching against her bare skin. Kennedy hitched a thumb underneath the strap, just beneath the tie of Buffy's bikini top.

"Isn't that uncomfortable?" she half-shouted over the music.

Buffy shrugged, twisting her hips to the overwhelming rhythm. "It's okay."

Kennedy leaned closer, her chin grazing the line of Buffy's jaw. "You look really hot," she said, and her hand splayed against Buffy's stomach.

Buffy lifted her arms and grinned, rising on her toes to press her lips to Kennedy's ear. "I am really hot," she affirmed. She looped an arm around Kennedy's neck, pressed their hips together. The air was close and warm, and other bodies walled them in, pressed them together. Buffy felt reckless and claustrophobic and happy, and she didn't care if the entire club was watching as Kennedy's eyes widened, as she slid her hand up, her fingers edging underneath Buffy's bikini top.

Buffy squeaked when Kennedy's middle finger brushed against her nipple, then again, more firmly. Buffy clapped a hand over Kennedy's, more to keep the fabric in place than to stop her, and Kennedy grinned, trapped Buffy's nipple between two fingers, pinching until Buffy gasped, and then her thigh was between Buffy's legs, rough, and Buffy pitched forward and grabbed Kennedy's shoulder. "There's a bathroom here, right?"

She disentangled Kennedy's hand from her top without flashing the surrounding dancers, and pushed towards a back corner of the club, assuming Kennedy would follow her.

It was still early in the evening, and the line to the bathroom was almost nonexistent. Buffy slammed the door open and breathed relief to see it was relatively non-gross, and the two stalls empty. Kennedy pushed the main door closed and twisted the bolt until it clicked.

"I always wondered why they had locks like that," Buffy observed, and then Kennedy was pushing her onto the counter, her mouth hot against Buffy's neck.

"Not much time," Kennedy muttered. She unknotted the strings of Buffy's bikini top, pushed the fabric aside to cup Buffy's breasts in her hands. Buffy moaned as she ducked her head, licked delicate circles around one nipple, and Buffy pinched the other herself, anxious, impatient, whirling.

Then Kennedy was pulling aside the crotch of Buffy's bikini bottoms, fingers exploring, finding Buffy searing hot, wet. "God," Kennedy said, and then Buffy was arching, crying out as one finger, then two pressed inside her. Kennedy bent her head to Buffy's breasts again, teeth scraping, and Buffy came so hard she hit her head against the mirror behind her.

As soon as she could breathe again, Buffy opened her eyes. "Wow."

Kennedy was licking her fingers, while her other hand was pulling her skirt up, shoving into her panties. She grinned at Buffy. "Is your head okay?"

Buffy scooted forward on the counter, leaned in and kissed Kennedy, finally. She slid her hand down Kennedy's arm, covered her hand until Kennedy withdrew. She curled two fingers into her, and Kennedy groaned, her arms framing Buffy as she clutched the edge of the counter with both hands.

"Not much time," Buffy said, and Kennedy began to shudder.


End file.
